


Let Me Photograph You in this Light

by through_the_dark



Category: One Direction
Genre: Angst, Canon compliant-ish, Don't say I didn't warn you about the angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_the_dark/pseuds/through_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis returns to LA from London. March 17, 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Photograph You in this Light

**March 17, 2016**

Louis sends Harry a text the moment the plane hits the runway.

_Just touched down, darling. Been missing you so much._

He frowns when he doesn’t get an immediate response. Finally, the little bubbles pop up on the bottom of his iPhone screen. They disappear for a moment, pop up again, and then finally, a text from Harry appears.

_Hope the memorial service went okay._

Louis types out a quick reply.

_See you at the house then?_

It’s a full three minutes before Harry texts back. He must be tied up with Jeff and his friends. No big deal.

_See you at the house._

Louis smiles and pockets his phone as he gathers up his belongings and shoves them in his backpack. A quick pap walk, dinner with his parents and Danielle, and then home. Home to Harry.

\---

He has a few too many drinks with dinner, but it was a long flight and his emotions from the funeral are still confusing. He doesn’t want to deal with them. He doesn’t really want to deal with his mom or Danielle, either. As soon as they head to bed at the rental, he heads home.

When he arrives, he sees that Harry’s car is parked in the driveway instead of the garage. It’s a bit strange, but Louis figures there may be some work going on that’s preventing access. They talked about replacing the kitchen cabinets, didn’t they? Getting something custom? Maybe the cabinetmaker is set up in there. It doesn’t matter. All he cares about is climbing into Harry’s arms.

There are no lights on in the house except a faint glow coming from their bedroom. Louis doesn’t even bother flipping any switches; he knows his way through this space by heart. He toes off his high tops, knowing Harry will complain if he tracks dirt across the floors.

He hurries down the hallway, sliding in his socks over the last few feet of tile before the bedroom door. And there he is. Finally. His beautiful boy, laid out on the California king bed, long curls tied up in a messy bun, naked as the day he was born. The only light in the room comes from several candles burning on the dresser.

“Damn,” Louis exhales, moving quickly toward the bed.

Harry doesn’t speak, just turns toward Louis to reach out and pull him down onto the soft, expensive sheets. The linens are arranged on the bed haphazardly, the fitted sheet not even pulled down over the corners of the mattress.

“These smell so good,” Louis sighs as he melts into the warmth of Harry’s body. “Did you just change them?”

“Mmmmm.” Harry hums and pulls Louis in closer. It’s a non-answer, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that they’re together in this bed. Harry is half hard already, helping Louis pull his clothes off.

As soon as he’s naked, Louis rolls on top of Harry and kisses him, long and deep.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says when he finally comes up for air.

Harry just cups Louis’ face in both his hands and strokes his jaw gently with his thumb. “Are you okay? Did the funeral go okay?”

“Yeah. It was fine. Everything’s fine,” Louis answers. He doesn’t want to talk about Keith, or his trip home, or a million other worries that seem to be nagging the back of his mind somewhere that he won’t let surface.

“You’re drunk.” It’s a statement, not a question. Harry seems a little worried.

“Just a little drunk,” Louis protests, dipping his head down for another kiss. It turns heated fast. In a matter of minutes, they’re grinding their bare cocks against each other, getting each other wet, moaning into each other’s mouths.

Louis breaks away to explore Harry’s neck and collarbones with his mouth. Harry moves his hands to Louis’ hips, gripping them so hard it almost hurts. Louis doesn’t mind. He makes his way down the front of Harry’s body to where his dick is resting on its laurels. He starts rubbing his face all over it—his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips. His mouth is open and his tongue is out.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry mutters as he props himself up on his elbows to watch what Louis is doing.

When he can’t stand it any longer, he flips Louis onto his back and starts sucking bruises into his chest, licking and biting his nipples.

“Mark me up, Harry,” Louis moans as one of Harry’s large hands wraps around Louis’ entire cock and starts jerking him up and down. “On my neck.”

Harry shakes his head so slightly it’s nearly imperceptible. He knows exactly where Louis likes to be marked, but instead of doing it, he moves further down Louis’ body, settling between his legs and spreading them apart. He grasps Louis’ hips and pulls him forward, burying his face between Louis’ cheeks and swiping his hole with his tongue.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Louis yells. He’s being loud, and he doesn’t care. Let the neighbors hear. As Harry continues working his rim with his tongue, Louis half notices that the bedroom windows are open. The house had seemed a little stuffy, but a light breeze is now coming through. He moans even louder, considering it a personal challenge to make someone outside hear him.

This is exactly where Louis wants to be right now. Away from everything and everyone else in the world except for Harry. Sweaty and dirty and buzzed on their clean sheets. In _their_ bed. In _their_ house. Harry going down on him even though he just had an 11-hour flight and hasn’t even showered.

He could jack himself off while Harry’s tongue is in his ass and call it a night. He’s done it a hundred times. But not tonight. Tonight he feels such a burning need to be with Harry, to be inside Harry or have Harry inside him—it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters as long as they’re together.

As difficult as it is, Louis manages to squirm away from Harry’s grip and reach for the nightstand.

“Wanna fuck you, Harry,” he tells him, opening the drawer and fumbling around for the lube. He comes up empty. “Where’s our stuff?” he asks, confused.

Harry’s reaching down to the floor on the other side of the bed.

“I have some. Right here, Lou.”

“What’s it doing over there?” Louis inquires, but he’s only half interested, and Harry doesn’t answer. Instead, he presses the bottle into Louis’ hand and settles onto his back, dropping his knees to each side.

They’ve done this so many times it’s like clockwork. Louis opens Harry up slowly and skillfully, like a piano he’s played every day for five years. One finger, then two. Plenty of lube because Harry’s always liked it slick and messy.

Harry’s head rolls from side to side on the pillow, a few curls coming loose from his bun. His eyes are closed and he’s biting his lip, trying to stifle his groans. Louis cups his balls gently in one hand and massages them as he adds a third finger. Harry looks so beautiful, writhing under his touch, a light sheen of sweat covering his pale skin, beading up a little on his butterfly tattoo.

“Louis, please,” Harry finally croaks, and Louis knows he’s ready. He’s been ready for a few minutes now, but sometimes Louis gets lost in the haze of touching and looking.

As Louis sits back on his heels to lube himself up, he notices Harry opening a condom.

“What the fuck are you doing, Haz?” he asks with a laugh.

A dark cloud passes over Harry’s face, and something strikes Louis deep inside but he can’t decipher what it is. This is just like any other night they’ve reunited after being apart. Maybe it just feels “off” because of how stressful everything has been lately.

“Just tired tonight,” Harry finally tells him. “Don’t wanna shower after.”

Louis shrugs and takes the condom from Harry. In their younger days Harry would perform an entire concert with Louis’ come dripping out of his ass and be so turned on by it that they’d have another round in the dressing room as soon as the show was over. But they’re older now, and yeah, they’re both exhausted. If Harry wants an easier clean up, Louis will give it to him, even though he prefers it raw.

He rolls the condom on and wastes no time lifting Harry’s hips to place a pillow beneath them before pressing inside. Harry gasps and spreads his legs wider as Louis bottoms out.

“You ready, love?” It’s an unnecessary question. Louis always knows when Harry is ready.

Harry seems to be at a loss for words, so Louis pulls back and pushes in again slowly. Harry bucks up against him, and Louis immediately starts speeding up his thrusts.

“So good for me, my love,” he praises Harry as he drops his head to nuzzle into his neck. Harry likes Louis to whisper in his ear while they’re making love. “Always so good for me. Always so tight.”

Harry responds with a whimper and an urgent squeeze to Louis’ ass, a silent prompt for him to go faster and harder. Louis obliges.

“I love you, Harry. I love you so much. I’m in love with you,” Louis pants into Harry’s ear as he continues thrusting inside him.

A strangled noise comes from Harry’s throat, and Louis pulls back to look at his boy’s face. He’s crying. Tears are streaming from his fathomless green eyes, down his temples and into his ears.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis whispers, emotion welling up from his chest. He’s so overwhelmed that he almost stops moving. He tries his best to wipe some of the tears away with the hand he isn’t using to prop himself up with. “This feels like our first time.”

Louis’ memory flashes back to that night. It was their first night in their first apartment. They’d waited for nearly six months, graduating from fumbling hand jobs in the X-Factor house to sloppy blow jobs in hotels to—most recently—Louis fingering Harry until he was moaning and begging and eventually coming all over both of them. It was time, and they both knew it.

Louis had been so nervous pushing inside Harry for the first time. So afraid he’d hurt him, so afraid he wouldn’t be able to make it good for him, which was the only thing he wanted in the whole world. To make _everything_ good for Harry because Harry was everything good in Louis’ life. He’d gone so slow, and when he’d finally bottomed out, they’d stared at each other in wonder, wide-eyed and breathless.

Louis had been overwhelmed then, just like he is now. Everything he felt came spilling out of his lips as he gently fucked Harry, whispering into his ear to calm him. To calm both of them.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. Baby. I love you so much. So, so much.”

He’d never said it before that moment. Whatever had been holding him back disappeared the instant Harry had let him in, body and soul. And once he started saying it, he couldn’t stop.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Harry had cried then, too, causing Louis to stop moving abruptly.

“Oh, no. Oh, God! Am I hurting you?”

Harry had just shaken his head, more tears spilling down over his cheeks.

“No. No. I mean…not much. I’m just…I’m so _happy_. I love you, too. I love you so much, Lou.”

They’d fumbled through the rest of it after that, Louis coming much quicker than he’d wanted to and then jacking Harry off while he softened inside him. He’d cleaned Harry up and kissed him to sleep after that, happier than he’d ever been in his 19 years of living.

It’s easier now, though. Louis doesn’t have to be afraid of hurting Harry. He knows just how to fuck him right, and that’s what he’s doing. He buries his face in Harry’s neck again and lowers his body so that Harry’s dick can brush against Louis’ stomach as they grind together. It isn’t long until he can feel Harry’s body coiling up with tension and finally releasing it in hot spurts that reach all the way up Louis’ chest. With a few more punches of his hips, he’s coming, too, filling the condom inside Harry’s body while he calls out his name.

It feels…so fucking good, and exhaustion hits Louis like a ton of bricks as soon as he pulls out of Harry and takes off the condom. He kisses Harry’s brow, throws the condom onto the floor, and uses his discarded T-shirt to wipe them both off half-heartedly. They can shower together in the morning. He fits Harry into his arms like a little spoon and falls asleep in under a minute.

\---

Louis wakes up with a start, his brain going wild trying to remember where he is and what day it is. He looks around for the glow of a clock but can’t see anything. With a pounding heart, he finally realizes that he’s in bed with Harry in their LA home, and it’s the middle of the night. Everything is fine. Everything is okay. Even though he has no idea what happened to his fucking alarm clock.

He reaches over to touch Harry, placing his hand on his chest to feel his beating heart and the slow rise and fall of his breathing. It instantly makes him calmer, and he settles down to go back to sleep. But…he can’t. Fucking jet lag. The more he tries, the more useless it seems. Harry stirs in his sleep next to him, and Louis just…can’t help it. He wants more. It’s been a long damn week, and he wants more.

He pulls Harry closer and begins pressing light kisses over his cheeks, his nose, his lips. Then he moves over to nip at his earlobe and start sucking softly on his neck. Harry rouses but doesn’t wake. Louis will have to try a little harder, then. He continues his work on Harry’s neck but adds a hand stroking over his nipples and chest. After several seconds, he chooses a nipple to focus on—the left one, he decides arbitrarily—and he begins squeezing it ever so gently, in time with his kisses.

“Mmmmm,” Harry moans softly in his sleep. Louis will take that as a sign to keep going.

Luckily, Harry is still naked, so Louis can easily shift his hand downward to fondle Harry’s soft dick, and that’s when Harry definitely wakes up. He doesn’t open his eyes or say anything, just rolls his entire body toward Louis and allows himself to be kissed. Louis kisses him hard, exploring Harry’s mouth with his tongue as he feels him growing hard in his hand.

“Let me ride you,” he pleads, biting Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back.

“Mmmmm, Lou, so tired,” Harry responds. He still hasn’t opened his eyes.

“I’ll do all the work,” Louis promises, reaching for the lube on the nightstand. “Just give me two minutes, love.”

He coats his fingers and reaches around to start fingering himself open. He’s going too fast, but he doesn’t care. He uses his other hand to keep stroking Harry’s cock while Harry pretends to be uninterested asleep.

“I know you’re not sleeping, Haz,” Louis prods in a high-pitched tone as he adds a second finger inside himself. “Your giant fucking cock is giving you away right now. You’re definitely interested.”

Harry can’t keep himself from smiling. “Fine, fine. I’m awake. You want some help?”

“I mean…feel free to join if you want to,” Louis answers with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Harry grabs the lube and slicks up his impossibly long middle finger. Louis is on his hands and knees over him, and Harry reaches between his legs to press his finger in between the two Louis already has inside. They’re both working at ridiculously awkward angles, but it’s so fucking hot they don’t mind. Harry has little trouble finding Louis’ prostate—he’s been an expert at it ever since Louis finally let him try for the first time. It feels like so long ago now.

“Fuck, Harry. Stop or I’m gonna come,” Louis groans, pulling out his own fingers and trying to move away. Harry fucks his finger into Louis’ hole a few more times for good measure.

Louis grabs the lube again and drizzles some over Harry’s cock, now fully hard and looking perfectly ready to be ridden.

“Lou…let me…I gotta get a condom…”

“Fuck that, Harry,” Louis interrupts with displeasure, sinking down on Harry’s dick as quickly as he can. Too quick. Louis actually can’t remember the last time Harry fucked him and he honestly wasn’t ready for this, but whatever. He wants it, and he doesn’t care if it hurts a little.

Harry doesn’t move a muscle, waiting for Louis to adjust. It takes a minute. Neither of them speak. Finally, Louis feels comfortable enough to start moving, slow at first, then picking up speed every time he grinds down. Before long, he’s positively _bouncing_ on Harry’s cock, whining and desperate to come. He looks down at his own dick, wet with precome and flopping wildly as he rides Harry. The sight of it turns him on even more.

“Touch me, Harry. Fuck! Touch me now,” he pleads.

“No,” Harry growls, grabbing Louis’ hips and fucking into him as hard as he can. “You can…come…on my fucking…cock.” He punctuates each phrase with a deep thrust.

Harry taking control in bed never fails to push Louis over the edge. All he needs is a couple of well-timed strokes and he’ll be there. But as soon as he reaches for himself, Harry moves his hands from Louis’ hips to his wrists, pinning both against his sides.

“I said no.” Harry’s voice is deep and resolute, bordering on angry.

The thing is, Harry almost never says no. And Harry saying no feels like a lightning strike straight to Louis’ balls, causing them to clench up and send come shooting straight through his dick and all over Harry’s stomach, even as Harry continues pinning his wrists and fucking him hard. Louis practically screams with the pleasure of it.

Harry releases Louis’ wrists and flips him over quickly, barely pulling out before coming on Louis’ ass cheeks, his balls, his dick. It’s a goddamn mess.

“Fuck,” is all Louis can say.

Harry rolls away, onto his back. They’re both gasping for breath.

“We need to shower,” Harry finally says. “I can’t go back to sleep like this.”

He stumbles from the bed into the bathroom, and Louis follows. The bright light hurts his eyes. Harry turns on the shower and then returns to the bedroom, coming back with travel-sized bottles of shampoo and body wash in his hand.

Louis looks around from where he’s already hogging all the hot water. “Where’s all our shower shit, hon?”

Harry closes the glass shower door behind him as he joins Louis. “Not tonight, Lou.”

Louis is thoroughly confused, but he’s tired and now he has a bit of a headache from drinking too much and Harry is soaping him up from head to toe, so who fucking cares. Harry washes Louis’ body and his hair and allows Louis to do the same for him. They share a towel and fall back into bed, mostly dry and completely spent. This time, Louis has no trouble falling back to sleep.

**March 18, 2016**

Louis wakes up hungover and immediately smells weed. Harry isn’t in the bedroom. The watery spring sunlight filling the room hurts his eyes, and his ass is sore as hell. He squints and rolls over, silently hoping that Harry shows up soon with some breakfast. He has no clue what’s on their schedule for the day, but he plans on starting it by sucking Harry’s brain out through his dick.

Five minutes pass, and no Harry. Louis sighs and sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbing his pants from the night before. He pulls them on and stands up. _Fuck_ , his ass is really paying for it today. He notices the French doors leading to the backyard are slightly open, so he follows the smell of pot to the patio. Harry’s sitting there, in just his underwear, smoking. He looks up at Louis with red-rimmed eyes but doesn’t acknowledge him.

Louis takes the seat next to Harry and grabs the joint.

“We have to stop doing this, Louis.”

“What are you talking about?” Louis asks after exhaling. “You’ve been acting weird since last night, baby.”

Harry’s entire body visibly tenses. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Baby?” Louis doesn’t get it.

Harry stands up and starts moving back toward the house. “I’m serious. You have to stop. _We_ have to stop.”

Louis puts the joint out in the mulch and follows him back inside. “Stop what? Harry, what do you mean?”

Harry grabs the shampoo and body wash from the shower and returns to the bedroom, placing them in a travel bag on the floor beside the bed. Louis watches as he pulls on his joggers and a T-shirt. Then Harry stands, looking at Louis like a caged animal.

“You have to be out of here by noon. There’s a showing. The cleaners are coming in an hour.”

He takes a tentative step toward Louis and then retreats. “Louis…” his voice cracks, and then he clears his throat to recover it. “I’m changing my number today. If you really need me…you have Jeff’s.”

No. _No_. This isn’t real, Louis tells himself. He must be dreaming. He tries to close the distance between himself and Harry, but Harry backs away through the bedroom door.

“Please, Louis. Please take care of yourself.” Harry stands in the hallway fighting tears as Louis pauses in the doorway, as still and quiet as a child.

“But I love you.” They’re the only words that will come out.

Harry lets out a pitiful sob. “And I love you.”

He turns on his heel and practically runs down the hall, clutching his travel bag and keys. Louis remains planted where he is, dumbstruck, as he hears the front door click shut.

Finally he turns back toward the bedroom, and _oh_.

The bed that wasn’t really made. The lube that wasn’t in the drawer and the toiletries that weren’t in the shower. His missing alarm clock. The car that wasn’t in the garage and the air conditioning that hadn’t been turned on. The marks Harry refused to put on him. The condom that Harry made him wear.

_Baby._

_I told you not to call me that._

Louis puts on the rest of his clothes and strips the sheets off the bed, leaving them in a pile for the cleaners. He walks through the living room and kitchen and opens the door to the garage. Right. Filled with boxes. His and Harry’s belongings, waiting to be picked up and moved to their new homes. Their separate homes. Their separate lives.

So it _wasn’t_ just a dream.

He closes the garage door and walks back through the house, taking one last look around before locking up and going to his car. The rental. He’ll just head back to the rental. His mom is there, and she’ll know what to do. She always does.

He backs out of the driveway and heads out of the neighborhood without looking back. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Everything will be okay.


End file.
